


safe here [shiro/reader]

by sugarglum



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Self-Insert, You (Y/N) - Freeform, idk if this will have smut or not js, if it does sORRY, ill be updating frequently (?) once a week at least, im hella thirsty for shiro, this is like my first fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-06 10:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10332116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarglum/pseuds/sugarglum
Summary: you've been stuck on a Galran prison ship for seven years, flung back to Earth, then became a part of an adventure.





	1. yellow

**Author's Note:**

> >> a/n: this is my first fanfic! pls give me constructive criticism bc this is gonna be cheesy i bet lmao  
> >> also it'd be appreciated if no one said anything perverted abt a kid calling her father "daddy" b/c i've gotten that in the past and smh  
> >> u can find me on wattpad w/ the same username,, i'll be uploading this there soon i guess  
> >> guide: [y/n] = your name  
> [l/n] = last name  
> [s/c] = skin color  
> [h/c] = hair color

[YOUR POV - 2 years before Voltron forms]

_“Hey Mommy, what are these flowers called?”_

_“Those are yellow poppies, [y/n]! Aren't they sweet? There are so many variations of colors, but this one’s yellow -- my favorite! There are red ones and purple ones too, did you know that?” Your mother beamed. “They're so bright and pretty, just like you.” You felt her smooth, [s/c] skin wrap around your arms, enveloping you in her warmth._

_She laughed, and the sound resonated through your ears like peaceful ambience. Her lovely smile-filled face quickly turned into a pondering expression. You found it adorable, her ability to change expressions so quickly. “You know, maybe I should’ve named you Poppy instead.”_

_“No, no, Mommy. I like [y/n]. It’s the one you and Daddy gave me! It’s perfect,” you giggled, your face practically glowing with glee as you lifted up your handful of poppies to your mother’s nose to smell. “You’re perfect!”_

_“So are you, [y/n]. So are you.”_

_“I love you, Mommy.”_

-

You felt something hard kick you in the stomach. 

You jolted awake reluctantly, out of the comfort of a once-in-a-lifetime dream and into the cramped and cold setting of the Galran prison ship. Sitting up, your sweaty, sticky skin stuck to the metal flooring before it retracted back to your arm -- a side effect of dehydration and not showering for seven years.

There was a pause. Everything seemed so surreal after you had that dream. It took you a moment to realize who it was who kicked you.

“Y-yes? May I help you?” you managed to squeak out in a weak voice. Your throat was raspy from yesterday's screaming and a lack of water, which you _also_ forgot about.

Looming above you was a Galran soldier -- a purple haired, yellow eyed monster with a knife in its hand and a gun at your throat. You didn't dare meet its eyes. It's yellow, menacing eyes. God, how you hated that color.

“Haggar wants to see you.”

You blinked. Your… “sessions” with Haggar were usually every other day -- which more frequent and regular than anyone else’s that you've seen on the ship. Then again, you weren’t told to fight. In fact, you weren’t told to do anything besides sit in your cell and stare at the walls. It was like you were her ultimate toy, using you whenever she wanted to. You were _wondering_ when she’d make the “appointments” every day -- guess it’s time.

“I said, Haggar wants to see you. Don't make me repeat myself, you useless whore.”

You swallowed hard. “Whore”. You looked up at the soldier and studied its face, careful not to look into its yellow eyes. It had a broken nose and a mouth cut off by a scar at the very end of its lip. It was the soldier who…”assaulted” you the other day.

Day? Or was it night? The afternoon? You didn't know and you didn't care. Seven years on this hellish airship was filled with worrying about your life, not worrying about the time. No prisoner on this ship had the effort to keep track of whatever the hell time it was.

You don't even know what “yesterday” is anymore. No one on this ship _cares_ about what yesterday was -- everyone here is focused on the present and future.

“How much longer are you going to make me wait? I’m a pretty patient guy, but you wouldn't want _that_ to happen again, would you?” the Galran soldier smirked and tugged at its belt. “Of course, _I_ wouldn't mind.”

Your eyes widened and you stood up hastily, almost collapsing back onto the floor. Three days of no food was really getting to you.

“Pl-please take me to H-Haggar.”

The soldier opened the cell’s door and the two of you made your way down the hallway. Your entire body trembled as you lifted your leg to take another step forward, then another, then another. You were weak from malnourishment and had a migraine from dehydration. Plus, you had stitches all over your body from yesterday’s… “event”. What else could Haggar _possibly_ want?

Then again, you didn’t think you could muster up the energy to care. To _feel_. When did you first forget the feeling of happiness? Of giddiness? Of awe or amusement or embarrassment? Was it the first trip to Haggar’s, all those years ago? Or was it when you were first locked into that isolated cell, away from the other prisoners, and you didn’t even know why? Or was it when your mother, when she…?

“We’re here. Get in.” He opened the door to Haggar’s room and nudged at your back with his gun.

“Get in…?”

You were confused. Wasn’t he supposed to strap you down and stay to watch you until Haggar arrived? You turned around and forced yourself to meet his ever-yellow eyes.

“Aren’t you supp--”

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt the imprint of a shoe on your chest, pushing the air out of your lungs. You gasped at the sudden impact and tumbled down to twenty feet below, where you heard the loud thud of body against flooring before your vision turned black.


	2. blackout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you've been stuck on a Galran prison ship for seven years, flung back to Earth, then became a part of an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's short!

[YOUR POV - 2 years before Voltron was formed]

She was like the sun, engulfing everyone around her in comfort. She always had the brightest smile stretched across her lovely face, dazzling strangers and even yourself. She made the sternest of people crack a smile. Her eyes were like the sweet sap of honey. Her smile was like the feeling you would get when you watched the sun rise. Her laugh was like the sound and scent of spring.

She was loved.

She was loved, even by the most evil of creatures.

You were eight when it happened. You were nine when she was stripped away from you and you were forced to watch her eyes dull, her smile dissolve, and her laugh be the echo of a memory long forgotten. You were ten when you realized that not everyone was as kind as your father, as gentle as your sister, or as loving as your mother.

You were nine when you felt every emotion in existence.

You were ten when you stopped feeling.

You were ten when you stopped feeling, stopped caring, stopped giving two shits about if you would live or die or not because the three people you cared about most were either dead or separated from you, hundreds of light years away.


	3. medella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you've been stuck on a Galran prison ship for seven years, flung back to Earth, then became a part of an adventure.

[YOUR POV - 2 years before Voltron was formed]

You woke to a sharp, electrical lightning bolt traveling through your body. You screamed at the sudden, stinging pain and opened your eyes to find a cloaked woman with long, white hair and yellow eyes. She was cackling at you. It was Haggar.

“Did you have a nice nap? I was wondering if I should wake you or not -- you looked so terrible when crying that I nearly collapsed in a laughing fit.” Haggar snickered. “Oh, and isn’t the new setup great? It’s exclusively for you, [y/n]. You should appreciate it. It’ll be your last memory here.”

Your fingers felt around your face. She was right -- your sunken cheeks were damp with tears and your baggy eyes were swollen. What had you been crying about?

But your attention quickly turned to her last sentences. A new setup? Your last memory here? 

A prick of fear arose from the inside of your chest -- but not for fear of death. Rather, you were scared on _how_ you would be killed. Knowing Haggar, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrifying the pain would be before she finally pulled the plug.

“You know, you should be grateful, [y/n].” Haggar broke the silence. “Throughout these seven years, I’ve never put you into the arena to fight: I’ve only invited you over to this lovely room on board the ship and, well… did some researching and performed some _experiments_ on you. Do you know why?”

You shook your head, but not only in response to her question. You’ve never once felt grateful for not being put into a gladiator fight. All these tests and experiments done on your body has ruined everything from your reproductive system to the your emotions, to your development and to your appearance. You'd much rather die than go through torture.

You have a camera-lens glass eye in your right socket. You have streaks of white all over your filthy hair. You don’t have ovaries anymore -- and these are the only three things that you _know_ has happened to your body. The majority of damage is underneath your skin, underneath the thousand stitches and scars all over your stomach, all over your thighs, all over your arms. and all over your back. There could be anything under there, from ticking time-bombs to god-knows-what.

Haggar cackled. “Unbelievable. Do you really think you’re human, all because we picked you up from planet Earth, and all because you look like a one? Did your family distrust you that much to never have told you the truth?”

You froze at the mention of your family. Your face flushed with anger, but you suppressed it. After being experimented on for seven years by Haggar, you knew what would happen if you fought back.

“Unbelievable,” Haggar sighed. “Truly, truly unbelievable. And all this time, I thought you knew. I didn’t know you were such a clueless idiot, [y/n]. Why do you think I’ve kept you alive for seven years? Why do you think I experiment on you so much, more than anyone else on this ship? How valuable could a human being be for me to toy with them for seven years straight?

You’re not fully human. Your mother was an alien. More specifically, she was the last survivor of a lost race: the Medellans, from the planet of Medella. Zarkon got rid of that planet and its people for a _reason_ \-- they were too powerful. They were incredible healers. Any disease, any injury, any problem with a creature’s body, whether human or not -- they could heal. It didn’t matter if the illness was unknown or not, they got rid of it. Think about it, [y/n]: have you ever fallen sick throughout these seven years on this ship? Have you ever come close to death here?”

...She’s right. You’ve never fell ill to food poisoning here, and you’ve never caught a single illness here either -- in fact, you don’t think you’ve ever coughed in your entire life.

“Moreover, why do you think you have the symbol of the Medellan kingdom in the palms of your hands?”

Symbols?

You looked down at your palms. There _were_ images there, but weren’t those just weird tattoos? Or birthmarks or something?

“...Anyway. Medellans cannot die from disease or injury, only from old age, which is how Zarkon got rid of them. Even then, it’s difficult: Medellans age slower than humans -- much slower. You’re an exception to this, since you’re a hybrid. But Medellan hybrids like you cannot die from disease or injury either -- most of the Medellan genes are more dominant than any other race’s genes in the universe. That makes them even more of a threat, but that’s not the only reason.

Medellans can kill. Just like they can heal, they can kill. Very easily, at that. They're all the ultimate weapons when used, but terrifying when used against you. An entire fleet of ships could be wiped out by a couple of Medellans in only a couple of minutes, if executed correctly.-

Do you get it now, [y/n]? You've only been kept alive because we wanted to give your Medellans powers to our Galran elite, which includes Zarkon and myself. Imagine the power we would acquire and how easily it would be to get rid of entire planets! Imagine how easy it would be for us to wipe out an entire race!”

You flinched at her power-hungry tone, but also astounded at the potential you, a mess of a creature, held.

“For that reason, we were horrified, as well as excited, for when we found out there were two Medellans left in the universe -- you, and your mother. Our original plan was just to take your mother, since she seemed more useful, being the pure Medellan she was. Unfortunately, our great Zarkon fell in love with her. That made our plans even more complicated. She only agreed to be with him and be experimented on as long as you and your family weren't hurt -- we agreed at the terms, but had to get rid of her when we found out she was purposefully weakening Zarkon. We had to use you instead, since we found out your sister wasn't related to either of your parents or you. I was assigned by our great leader Zarkon to experiment on you and find a way to extract your p--”

“Why did you kill my sister and my father?” you blurted out, your voice cracking as you looked down at your hands, observing the intricate Medellan designs. “They're harmless and as you said, useless to your reign. Why didn't you just--?”

“Silence,” the witch hissed. “Did I ask you to interrupt? Anyway, since you don't want to learn about your background at all, we’ll just go straight to the reason I brought you here today.”

You felt cold sweat form on your back.

She sighed, walking towards you, who was still sprawled on the ground. “It's such a shame. I really wished I could've played more with my favorite toy. Well, before we get on with it -- are there any questions?”

You hesitated. What should you ask? If what she was saying was true, isn’t there a chance of escape? Then again, why would Haggar be telling you this? 

You decided to keep your mouth shut.

“Alright, no questions? Then let’s get to why I brought you here in the first place,” Haggard snickered.

Your eyes widened.

Oh, no, no, no, no no nononononononononononono.

Your body steeled in anticipation.

No, no, no, no, no no nononononononononononono.

Your fingers curled up into a fist.

No, no, no, no, n--

“You’re going to be sent back to planet Earth.”


	4. earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you've been stuck on a Galran prison ship for seven years, flung back to Earth, then became a part of an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short.

[YOUR POV - 2 years before Voltron forms]

What?

You opened your eyes, relaxed your body and released your fist.

What did she just say?

“You heard me right,” Haggard rasped, as if reading your mind. “You’re going to be sent back to planet Earth.”

What?

You blinked twice and your eyes widened, but you didn’t feel as ecstatic as you expected to be when you first heard her say those words.

After all, you don’t know anyone there anymore. Your parents and your adopted sister were dead, and you’ve never made any friends due to the fact that you were privately tutored. No one knew you, and even if someone did, they’d most likely think that you were dead.

But regardless, you felt what you thought was the first prick of hope in the seven years you’ve spent in this hellhole of an airship. You wouldn’t be assaulted by the soldiers and guards anymore; you wouldn’t be experimented on by Haggar anymore; you wouldn’t be forcefully beaten and starved anymore; you wouldn’t be-- 

“Oh, don’t get too excited, [y/n],” she laughed, but it sounded more like a bird choking. “You’re going to be sent off to a place called the Garrison, where the humans there will experiment on you. They’re very curious about whatever you are. Whatever tests and results that happen there will be reported back to us. You won’t be able to kill them either, so don’t get any ideas. In return, they’re giving us what they _claim_ to be the Blue Lion of Voltron.”

...She’s kidding you, right?

You sank back down, feeling defeated. Experiments? More of them? Every day? How much more could you take? _Why couldn’t you just die?_ **_Why were you born Medellan?_**

Haggard cackled, then motioned for the guards at the door. 

“Take her away.”


	5. home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you've been stuck on a Galran prison ship for seven years, flung back to Earth, then became a part of an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short again.

[SHIRO’S POV - a day before Voltron’s reformation]

It seemed like forever.

The year that went by, facing endless numbers of monsters in that arena, felt like forever.  
The amount of time he spent in Haggard’s room being experimented on felt like forever.  
The endless worry for the safety of himself, Matt, and Matt’s father went on for forever.  
The counting of the guard’s footsteps, the number of seconds the next cluster of guards would take to arrive… felt like forever.

Running into the escape pod and never looking back -- that felt like forever.

But he was there, in the pod.  
He was safe.  
He was out of breath, injured heavily, and famished, but he was safe.

He was heading back to Earth.

Back home.


	6. fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you've been stuck on a Galran prison ship for nine years, flung back to Earth, then became a part of an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry man i just got too tired looking at this chapter so i decided to post it -- sorry if there r any typos or anything

[YOUR POV -- the day before Voltron’s reformation]

What year was it?  
What day was it?  
What time was it?

You opened your eyes.

You were on an operating table, strapped down by the familiar feel of clamps that you've gotten to know for two years -- but at least it wasn’t as cold and painful as the chains you were bound with on the prison ship.

You thought that, since you at least _somewhat_ resembled a human, that the people who experimented on you would go easy. All you asked for was to not be starved, not be isolated, not be treated as you had been when you were on the Galran prison ship.

You didn't know that humans could be so cruel.

The experiments at whatever this place was called -- the Garrison? ...They were even worse than the ones Haggar performed on you. The only thing you were grateful for was that you were cleaned and fed. But in all honesty, you would much rather be back on the prison ship, with a break every other day from this hell.

You’ve counted.

That was your only source of time.

One experiment every day -- with the exception of two on the weekends.

You’ve counted how many times they’ve sewn you open, while you were still conscious.  
You’ve counted how many times they’ve sewn you shut, while you were still conscious.  
They said it was to prevent “waste of anaesthetics”.  
You’ve counted how many times they’ve starved you for weeks on end, just to see what would happen to your body, and if you would die.  
You’ve counted how many times they’ve injected you with viruses, just to see what would happen to your body, and if you would die.  
You’ve counted how many times they’ve placed things in you and taken things out.

You’ve counted.

There have been around 938 experiments performed on you so far -- so extremely close to the 1324 experiments Haggard performed on you, even though your stay on Earth has only been two years.

Have there been obvious changes to your body?

…”Yes” would be an understatement.

Your then [h/c] hair has become thin and completely white, most likely out of stress and anxiety from all these experiments. It’s also grown abnormally long -- after all, you haven’t had a haircut in nine years.  
Your [s/c] skin has grown sickly and at least five times paler than what’s considered healthy for your skin tone. All signs of health have drained from your body.  
You have three consecutive “bullet hole wounds” on your chest, in between your two breasts -- but they aren’t really bullet hole wounds. They just resemble them. You don’t know what they are.  
You have trouble breathing. The Garrison humans had damaged your lungs to see what response your body would have to a lack of oxygen. They’ve also suffocated you and cut your air pipe to observe what would happen -- they eventually sewed it back, but it certainly wasn’t a fun and happy three weeks of your life.  
You have body tremors now, out of anxiety and fear. You were surprised you developed them on Earth, rather than on the Galran prison ship.  
Your sense of smell is gone. You can’t taste anything anymore.

You could go on and on and on. You have had 938 changes made to your body throughout these 730 days on Earth -- some changes subtle, some not.

It didn't matter anymore, anyway.

Life… could you call it that? Could you call _this_ living? Could you call waking up each day to blinding lights and people in surgeon masks _living_? Emptiness -- could you call that living? Anxiety attacks in the middle of the night, almost every night -- is that living? Lacking some of the most basic of human emotions -- is _that_ living?

Life -- or whatever this hell ride was anymore -- was meaningless at this point. It was pointless from the start, when you were ten years old and stepped right into that far away Galran ship, your entire family freshly taken away from you.

You were nineteen now. You don't know _how_ many suicide attempts you've had since you arrived at Earth, but you _do_ know it's far too many for two years.

But you knew it was all for nothing. Suicide wasn't even an option, since you had Medellan blood running through your veins. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't die.

You've asked yourself so many times what you've done to deserve this. Was it taking your family for granted? Was it taking your home for granted? Whenever you decided “yes”, you would then ask yourself, “Well how and why the hell would a seven year old be thinking these things?”

You've given up. Maybe you did something horrific in your past life or whatever, and ended up here as punishment. Or maybe you were just unlucky -- so be it. You were here now, and it didn't help to look for reasons.

It was midnight at the Garrison -- or close to, at least. Nighttime was the only time that the humans in surgical masks and with scalpels in their hands were gone.

You wished you could break free and look at the stars again, look at the moon again, look at trees and rivers and flowers again. You wished this every night. The only view you had was an orange-brown dirt mount whose dust would sometimes seep into your “room”.

You thought, two years ago, that you'd be able to fulfill those wishes once you landed on Earth. Honestly, you couldn't believe how foolish you were in believing that.

Sometimes, you were able to hear footsteps outside, the familiar sound of shoe against dirt. You didn’t know if it was one of the Garrison humans who experimented on you, or someone else walking outside.

Tonight was one where you heard footsteps in the dirt. That’s strange, though -- the Garrison humans left your “room” four hours ago. None of them would want to stay here or come back -- why were there footsteps?

You heard multiple of them, too. You heard someone with a feminine-like voice, yelling for someone else to stop doing whatever they were doing. Two other voices were in the mix: both masculine-sounding. They seemed as if they were all in a rush for something. It intrigued you to hear that they sounded young, unlike the voices of the Garrison “doctors”.

To be honest, you didn’t care. Whatever they were doing most likely didn’t involve you, anyway. A good idea would probably be to go to sleep -- the humans were gone for nine hours until they returned again. You already burnt through four hours of your break time. Your eyelids were drooping, anyway.

You closed your eyes, taking in a slow, deep breath. 

This day was over. 

Tomorrow will begin soon.

It’s okay.

-

_Springtime._

_That was when the flowers bloomed, the sky became blue again and you were immersed in a world of greens, blues, and yellows._

_Springtime?_

_You opened your eyes and was met with the bright, blue sky above you. It was welcoming, with clouds dispersed here and there, birds flying through them._

_You sat up, wind blowing through your tangled white hair. The long, windswept grass beneath your feet felt like feathers around your calves. You stood at the very peak of a grassy hilltop, looking at everything below._

_There were yellow flowers everywhere._

_You walked down the hill and into the infinite field of yellow flowers. Upon further inspection, you realized they were poppies. They were delicate._

_Your body relaxed as you lied down on top of the flowers. For the first time in nine years, you felt comfort._

_You picked a poppy and examined it: it looked normal enough. You brought it to your nose and took a whiff, expecting a nostalgic scent._

_But it didn’t smell like anything._

_Of course._

_You knew this was a dream. You knew it from the start._

_It was frustrating._

_It was frustrating how the only comfort you experienced existed in dreams. It was frustrating how none of this was real. It was frustrating how you would probably never get a chance to see the outside world ever again._

_At least, that was your mindset when you first were taken to the Galran prison ship._

_It's been nine years. You've accepted defeat. For some reason, accepting defeat is more satisfying than not doing so._

_You closed your eyes and bathed in the fake comfort of the dream. It didn't matter if this was fake -- it's the closest you’d ever get to the real thing. Savor it. Appreciate it._

_After all, it's okay. You're okay. You're safe._  
It's okay.  
It's okay.  
It's okay.

_You opened your eyes._

_You blinked._

_What?_

_The ever-blue sky disappeared, and was replaced with a menacing red._  
The clouds were gone.  
The birds were gone.  
The flowers were gone.

_You were alone again._

_But there were voices._

_Voices from where?_

_You looked around, but all your eyes picked up on was the same disgusting red color. You were floating in a sea of red._

_You heard yelling from above._

_You looked up. There was a yellow light coming from a small hole._

_You swam towards it as fast as possible, as you were losing air. You extended your arm into it, but quickly retracted back. Your arm was on fire._

_But did it matter? It wasn’t like you were going to die anyway. You were in a dream, after all -- and you had Medellan blood running through your veins. What was the risk?_

_Reluctantly, you pushed yourself into the hole, your body immediately met with a searing, hot pain. It was as if you were being immersed into a pit of fire._

_You couldn’t see and you couldn’t scream, but you felt your skin melting off of you before you were engulfed in a wave of flames._

~

Your eyes opened and your instinct was to sit up -- but you were forced back by the clamps around your arms and legs. You expected to be greeted by the two-year-old sight of an unopened door and medical table beside you, but like in your dream, everything was red.

And everything was burning.

The door was open, and a red sign was flashing above it, reading: _EVACUATE THE BUILDING._

You looked around you. There were flames everywhere.

But you didn’t scream for help.

You thought that if you were burned badly enough, that the Garrison humans wouldn’t want to experiment on you anymore, and that you’d be discarded -- they couldn’t perform their experiments on you if the palms of your hands were burnt, right? After all, you assumed that that was the source of your Medellan power.

You relaxed. Finally.

A tear rolled down your cheek, the contrast between the hot and cold temperatures making you shiver. You looked up at the ceiling, which was on the brink of collapsing. You smiled. “I’ll finally be able to leave this hellhole, huh?”

“Well, that isn’t really nice.”


	7. acid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you've been stuck on a Galran prison ship for seven years, flung back to Earth, then became a part of an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had writers block and like three exams this week, please take this shitty ass chapter away from me

[YOUR POV -- the day before Voltron’s reformation]

You whipped your head around to the door, your eyes wide.

Your eyes met a human -- a human? A human.

A human without a surgical mask on.  
A human without safety glasses on.  
A human without a white lab coat on.

A human with caramel-colored skin; short, dark brown hair; and dark brown eyes that met yours.

“Let’s get you out of here, alright?”

The human walked to you and broke your clamps swiftly. He remained calm, despite the flames that were slowing creeping up to him.

… What?

What was going on?

What was this?

Weren’t you supposed to die?

...

You didn’t want this.

You wanted to die.

_You didn’t want this._

_**You wanted to die.** _

But you couldn’t protest. You hadn’t moved your body for two years, and your muscles didn’t know what to do: you were weak, to say the least.

The human took you into his arms and ran out the room's door, the ends of his hair starting to catch flame. Once the two of you made it out, he was practically jumping in excitement -- but as soon as he stepped out of the room, your chest started to burn. More specifically, in between your breasts.

“Hunk! Pidge!”

You turned your head and your eyes fell upon two other humans, who you assumed were the friends of the one carrying you: “Hunk” and “Pidge”. The shorter human had sandpaper-colored hair and glasses -- they were wearing a green and white shirt with cargo shorts on. The other seemed soft all around, wearing earthy-green tones. Both of them had short hair.

But you couldn’t focus on them, or any of your surroundings for that matter. You were being set on fire from the inside out. You felt acid in your throat, but you swallowed it back down. The burning was getting worse, and you were having trouble breathing.

“I found Shiro! Keith can suck my di--”

“You called?”

Another voice this time. You turned to the direction of the hallway, but couldn’t see anyone. Moments later, two figures emerged from one of the rooms in the hall, one figure in red and the other in rags.

But your attention went back to the burning. It was overwhelming. You couldn’t breathe.

There was a silence between the humans until the one in red spoke, “I don’t know who any of you are, or who that white-haired girl is, but I’ve got Shiro. And I’m 105% sure that the person in your arms right now isn’t him.”

Black dots danced around your vision as you tried your hardest to see who was talking, but you couldn’t make out the faces of the two other humans -- they were clumped up in the mix of the blacks and swirls that swam everywhere in your sight.

The air in your lungs seemed like they were being forcibly sucked out.

“Well…” the human carrying you muttered with a pout, “Let’s say I _did_ screw up and this girl _isn’t_ Shiro... we still couldn’t leave such a lovely lady behind, could we?”

Everyone then turned their attention towards you, but once they saw your face, they froze.

The earthy human looked at you, eyes wide in fear.

“Uh...Lance? Is she...okay?”

And with those five words, the rest of your vision was immersed in black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'mma be updating next week on either wednesday or friday. stay tuned for more shit writing!


	8. "she looks broken"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you've been stuck on a Galran prison ship for seven years, flung back to Earth, then became a part of an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO UNBELIEVABLY SORRY THAT I DIDNT UPDATE LAST WEEK,,, I HAD LIKE 3 TESTS AND A PROJECT TO COMPLETE AND DIDN'T GET TO THE FIC. have this short shitty chapter and IM SO SORRY ILL WRITE SOME actual good quality stuff SOON i hope

[SHIRO’S POV -- four days after the formation of Voltron]

The girl has been asleep for four days. 

She’s breathing, so we know she’s alive. 

She looks so wrecked up -- her hair is completely white. It’s not light blue like Alluras, but rather, it’s pure white. She has scars all over her arms, legs, and neck: all her exposed areas that we can see. Whenever we touch her skin, she feels like an icicle -- yet sometimes, we find her breaking out in sweat.

Allura takes care of her. We’ve tried over and over again to heal her by putting her into a healing pod, but it never works. There’s always an error whenever we put her in one. Coran says this has never happened before, so I guess this castle-ship isn’t as well-functioning as we thought it was.

She looks broken.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, we can hear her crying, reaching out for something -- some _one_ to grab on to. It’s usually me, Lance, or Hunk who take turns hugging and comforting her whenever she breaks down in her sleep. Every time she has one of these fits, she looks so desperate. It’s like she hasn’t felt happiness in years.

It’s surprising really: we don’t know anything about this girl, yet we’re still taking care of her.

I wonder when she’ll wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will update on saturday, 4-8-17. it will be updated before 8pm EST.
> 
> COUNT ON IT I PROMISE


End file.
